The Puddle

Written August 2007, pre deletion day.

The Puddle

Do I pray for the? do I curse at the?
my endless words are different but connected.
Wake, woken, breathing, living,
which rabbit hole do I escape first?

A view, sight, of warm winters and freezing summers,
pastures without end, a box with no opening.
The workings of a complicated mind,
the mist it settles and stays.

Austen she comforts but does not dispell,
the darkeness shadows the strongest river.
Walk the asphalt, boundaries are prisons,
fight, keep fighting .... small stones ripple.

Reviews

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

I feel the idea of a closed 'offness', a stifling here...very well established in this piece. The ripple effect itself spreads out into infinity I believe which opens the door from the isolation I feel in this poem. Glad to see you are writing again - yippee! Congratulations. Thank you for your previous review...I always enjoy sharing work with you and reading your wonderful concoctions...come out of that cocoon now dear butterfly...
Light,
Siddartha

[myshel (fefee to some)]

i like the opening... not finishing the questions you ponder... the mist it settles and stays... my favourite line... it feels like that in the moment ... like the fog will never lift

[Shane Patrick]

deep the mind and the puddle.. another window opened to your soul.. well done my friend..